


Queen of Cups

by cordialcount



Category: Shoujo Kakumei Utena | Revolutionary Girl Utena
Genre: F/F, Halloween, Mid-Canon, Swords
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-17 07:50:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21263480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cordialcount/pseuds/cordialcount
Summary: Her veil thins once a year.
Relationships: Himemiya Anthy/Tenjou Utena
Comments: 9
Kudos: 29
Collections: Trick or Treat Exchange 2019





	Queen of Cups

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smarky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smarky/gifts).

Utena almost fell over when she returned to the room. Her squelching shoes had weakened her footing, Anthy supposed, glancing out at the black slick trees, and it wasn't every day she could view the Rose Bride pincushioned by several hundred swords. "Himemiya," she croaked. By what looked like sheer habit she sat in the chair Anthy pulled for her, but her mouth opened and shut as if hinged.

"The costume contest is tomorrow," Anthy said. "Do you not like it, Utena-sama?"

By early that morning Anthy had resigned herself to the pricks and the headache of blood blocked around her narrow throat. Unable to untangle herself from her blanket for breakfast, she had then spent half of her "sick day" darning the holes. She was at least now as tidy for her unveiling as any year before: the hilts bloomed from her back in rows, like carrot tops; a scarf and wooly sweater tamed the thicket around her ribs and collar. "Here's your tea," she added, gingerly extracting a cup from its dagger nest. Best to give Utena's hands something to do. 

As Anthy rose, she heard and felt a sword topple from her hip. "Oh dear," she exclaimed, "what a frightful wind!" 

It was true. She hadn't considered how the school's hallways—built straight so she could be glimpsed, drawn headless by shadow, from any distance—would funnel wind as well as rumor when she'd designed them. Somewhere a chime was banging lustily against the eaves. Anthy shivered. Then she shivered again. It was a good excuse to seize Utena's wrist, as if she could thaw herself with Utena's generous, runs twenty kilometers a day, eats five gift lunches kind of warmth, and to itch through the undulation of her closing wound. 

Utena frowned. "Did you lose some pieces out the window too?" she asked. "I thought I saw something shining in the water. Juri claimed they were goldfish. Are these points, um, really pointy?" 

She tried to tug her hand out. Anthy had expected Utena's tactile approach to the truth. Utena, expecting no more than Anthy's usual zero resistance to being patted and moved, did not quite succeed.

"Ah, you worry so much," Anthy said. Without Akio's assistance, Utena could no more pluck the swords from her body than stars from the sky, but Anthy slanted the nearest blade out of reach anyway, under the cover of a bashful shrug. "My brother designed them, and he's very good with tools and machinery. I need to practice more to keep them up. Like this." She bent and arched, stroked the shallow lines of Utena's palm. The swords flared from her back like the fur of a startled cat.

Her nails caught on Utena's calluses. Hard-earned, pale, lovely souvenirs of her journey to Ohtori's least attainable hunk. Useless. Anthy wasn't dealing with a poorly wrapped Tootsie Roll; she couldn't just pawn an extra sword off on a girl. She had to—align her fingertips to Utena's, feeling her flittering pulse, and her guts to Utena's kneecaps. Fitting one angular thing to another, she thought, and smiled. Gravity carried her loosened mouth easily to Utena's.

She just had to find somewhere else to store the sword.


End file.
